This woman was a mystery. One minute, she was a confident and playful person, and the next she seemed small and vulnerable. I couldn't figure her out, and that drew me closer to her. I opened up my laptop and sent off a few more emails, trying to make it seem as if it was business as usual.

But I knew it wasn’t.

James was panicking and too much work was falling on his shoulders. Every hour I had an email from him, asking me all sorts of questions I should’ve been there to answer. We had projects that were about to launch and investors who were relying on me to deliver on products that would net them hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Yet I was in Chicago. Trying to figure out how the fuck I was going to save this life that had been dropped into my lap.

I lost myself in emails and balance sheets and company reports until the smell of chicken filled the room. I looked up and saw it was almost six. Fuck. I’d worked four solid hours without so much as stopping. I put my laptop up and walked down the hallway, then leaned against the doorframe to take in the scene.

Joanna, barefoot with an apron around her body, walking around the kitchen.

Cooking dinner.

With a smile on her face.

“Hope you like stuffed chicken,” she said.

“What’s it stuffed with?” I asked.

“Grape tomatoes, two different kinds of squash, and a bit of grated cheese. I also made a honey and apple cider vinegar glaze to top it all off with.”

“I didn’t know you could cook. It smells delicious.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“I’d like to change that,” I said.

“Then take a seat. I’m almost done roasting the vegetables in the oven.”

I sat down at the table she had already set and watched her work. I enjoyed having her here. Around me the way she was. Despite our circumstances and how quickly things were changing, I enjoyed the ride I was on with her. Dinner smelled wonderful and Joanna was relaxed, and as she sat down in front of me I could tell she was finally at ease.

Well, she was getting there.

“What’s your favorite thing to eat?” Joanna asked.

“A good steak always works for me,” I said. “You?”

“A big salad. With red peppers and mandarin oranges and those crunchy noodle things.”

“Crunchy noodle things?”

“I don’t know what they’re called,” she said. “But you put all of that together and drizzle some Asian Sesame dressing on it? Oh. It’s heaven.”

“Sounds like an easy thing to put together. Maybe I’ll make that for us the next time I cook,” I said.

“I would say it goes well with a decent white wine, but that isn’t something I’ll be touching for awhile.”

“Since we’re on that topic, how have you been feeling?” I asked.

Joanna shot me a look and I bit back a chuckle.

“Besides overwhelmed, frightened, and confused?” she asked. “I’m doing okay, shockingly enough.”

“No nausea?” I asked.

“Not that I feel is brought on by the pregnancy. But this exhaustion. It’s gotta go. I feel like I could sleep all day and still sleep eight hours a night.”

“From what I’ve read, that seems pretty normal.”

“From what you’ve read?” she asked.

“I can admit when I don’t know much about something. I don’t know what your body’s going to be going through, so I’m reading up on it.”

“You are?” she asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know.”

I studied her face as she took a bite of her chicken.

“Wow. This turned out better than I expected,” Joanna said.

“Do you always underestimate yourself?” I asked.

“I don’t have an ego, if that’s what you’re asking. You’ve got enough for the both of us.”

“Because I’ve proven I deserve it. I built a multibillion dollar company without making one shady financial move. I’ve changed the way businesses look at technological security and my product hasn’t even hit the market yet.”

“Then if that’s the measuring stick, no. I haven’t earned an ego,” she said.

“I think you have.”

“No, I really haven’t.”

“Joanna, you built a performance career based around one of the most archaic forms of entertainment that still thrives in our society. You blow the roof off opera houses that would swallow anyone else. You’re sitting in front of a man whose child you’re carrying without knowing much of who he is or what he does, and you passed that career onto your best friend because you wanted a chance to go after the one thing you wanted more than your own musical career. Yes, my songbird. You’ve earned an ego.”

Her eyes connected with mine and I felt something warm underneath the table. A softness lying against my leg. It hooked around the back of my foot and drew my leg nearer to her body before it was encased within the warmth of a strong set of calves.

I set my fork down and reached out my hand, watching as her fingers slid into my palm.

“You’re really staying,” Joanna said.

“I really am.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Then ask what you really want to ask.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I’m a businessman. I can see it in your eyes. There’s a question you want to ask me, but won’t. So ask it. I’m giving you permission.”

I watched her draw in a deep breath before she parted those pouty little lips of hers.

“Why do you call me songbird?” she asked.

“Not the question I was expecting,” I said with a grin. “But I’ll take it.”

“What question were you expecting?” she asked.

“The one I usually get is, ‘how is that going to fit?’.”

“No you don’t,” she said with a smile.

“‘How can you keep going like that?’”

“Stop it,” she said, giggling.

“‘Are you ever satisfied? Don’t you hurt?’”

“You’re insane, Robert!”

“‘Why won’t you let me cum? I can’t take it anymore!’”

Joanna’s hand covered her mouth as she fell apart in a fit of giggling. I watched her cheeks flush with excitement as her smile burned so brightly it hurt my eyes. She threw her head back, allowing me a greedy look at her long, beautiful neck. She was holding her stomach, her head shaking as she tried to calm herself down.

“You’re too much,” she said breathlessly.

“Or maybe I’m just enough for you,” I said.

Her smiling eyes met mine and I felt a warmth blanket my body. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever come across. The perfect mixture of playful, innocent, and serious. She was smarter than even I gave her credit for and talent oozed from her body.

Usually I considered women lucky to be in my presence.

But with her, it was different.

With Joanna, I was lucky to be in hers.

“I call you ‘songbird’ because that was what first captivated me about you,” I said. “Sure, when I saw a picture of you I thought you were hot. No man could deny that about you. During the time the orchestra was warming up, the only thing on my mind was what your lips would taste like.”

I watched her blush as I reached out and took her hand again.

“But when you started singing, that thought fell from my mind. I went from knowing what you might taste like to craving more of your voice. I wanted it to fill me. To rush over me and pull me into another world. Your music does that to me, and I’m a man who will openly profess that I can’t stand classical music.”

“And now?” Joanna asked.

“I still find it boring,” I said with a grin. “But not when you sing it. When you sing, Joanna, it captivates me. Like a songbird on a branch waking with the sun.”

“You ever thought about becoming a poet?” she asked.

“Not enough money in it for me,” I said with a wink.

The two of us continued to talk over dinner. I forgot about Slate and I forgot about the security team in the living room and I forgot about work. It was Joanna and I, sitting at a table, eating a dinner she had cooked, and talking about our lives. Our pasts. What we were going through. How things would change in the future. It felt domestic. It felt natural.

I felt myself warming up to the idea of having a family.

I cleaned up the kitchen and went in search of Joanna, hoping to spend some more time with her. I figured I could press us some fresh juice, or make us a milkshake and talk some more. Or take in a movie. Or cuddle in front of the fire and watch the sun set over Chicago.

But I found her in her room. Curled up underneath the covers and already sleeping.

I sat on the edge of her bed and smoothed her hair from her face. I leaned in and kissed her forehead, watching as she stirred. She nuzzled closer into my side and wrapped her body around me, curling in on herself until I was cradled against her stomach. I ran my fingers through her hair until her breathing evened back out, then I left the room and shut the door behind me.

I heard my phone vibrating on the couch, and I knew I couldn't ignore his phone calls any longer.

“It’s about time you picked up,” James said.

“I’ve been a little busy,” I said. “Is something wrong?”

“I should be asking you that same question. Maynard and his guys are in Chicago, aren’t they?”

“I’m surprised you’re just now putting that together. They’ve been here for almost four hours,” I said.

“What’s happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“You never personally request them to go anywhere with you unless something’s very wrong.”

“I forget how long you’ve worked with me.”

“You forget how long we’ve been friends, too,” he said.

“Slate is in Chicago,” I said. “He made a threat towards Joanna, so I came out here to check on her.”

“Joanna?” he asked.

“Leone? The opera singer?”

“Why would he make a threat against some random opera singer we went to go see?”

“Because I got her pregnant,” I said.

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“Joanna’s pregnant with my child. That’s why Slate threatened her. At least, I’m assuming that’s why he did.”

“I don’t even know how to begin to unpack that statement,” he said.

“The day I flew out for Chicago, I was in my apartment. I saw a shadow underneath my front door while we were talking. You know, when I was telling you I would be taking time off?”

“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I didn’t know what was going on. You know how you said you couldn’t get through to my cell phone all day that day?”

“Yeah? So?”

“Slate was using a cell phone jammer. He had isolated me to my apartment without me realizing it, then he tacked a note up to my door.”

“Wait, he got to your apartment?” he asked.

“Past security and everything. And he did it again here.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s… look, it’s a lot. A lot is going on, but here’s what you need to know. Joanna’s pregnant and Slate’s trying to use her as revenge for something I did when I was a kid. Just a teenager.”

“I know about your rough past,” he said.

“You don’t know the half of it. Slate feels wronged and he’s looking for equal payback. And that equal payback is Joanna. The team is here with me to keep her safe until I can figure out how to get rid of this asshole.”

“Well, there is some good news.”

“What?” I asked.

“Ever since that last letter same in, things have been quiet around here.”

“I’m not worried about that letter. You told me a few days ago that it was postmarked for before I left. Which means Slate’s following me. He sent that letter, I left for Chicago before I could receive it, and now he’s in Chicago. So the good thing is the company isn’t what he’s after. It’s only me.”

“Then I’m glad you’ve got Maynard there. He’ll stop you from doing something stupid,” he said.

“How are things with the product launch? We’re in the second stage of testing, right?”

“Yep. It’ll kick off tomorrow. I’m not worried about it.”

“You sounded worried in the ten emails you sent me today.”

“Because massive flaws are still being found. We’re paying these developers a lot of money. I figured we would’ve been passed the ‘major flaws’ portion of this project,” he said.

“Cut them some slack. We’re going something no one else has ever done in this field. It’ll take some time. It’s why the launch date isn’t until the end of the year.”

“If you’re not worried, then I’ll try not to worry.”

“Which means you’ll worry until this thing gets pushed to market.”

“You know me so well,” he said. “Now, I’m going to address you getting a girl pregnant.”

“I’m surprised it took you this long to hone in on the topic.”

“When the hell did you have the time to get Joanna Leone pregnant?”

“Remember that donation I told you I was going to give The Met?”

“The one you had to give that night, no questions asked?”

“Yep. Well, I gave the donation. Then I went to meet Joanna backstage,” I said.

“Of course you fucking did.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be upset. I sat with you during that entire performance. We were practically on a date,” I said.

“I specifically told you not to fuck her.”

“Sorry, Mom. Didn’t mean to disappoint you.”

“So what are you going to do? With her, I mean.”

“What any other man should do. I’m sticking around,” I said.

“So the self-professed loner is suddenly going to be a father?”

“Do you have any other options?” I asked. “She’s carrying my child, James. She’s in trouble because of me. I’m not going to abandon her, and I sure as hell am not going to let her do this alone.”

“Sounds like a little more than you just ‘sticking around’,” he said.

“Well whatever it sounds like, nothing can go forward until Slate’s out of the picture. And I plan on remedying that issue before I come back.”

“Will Miss Leone be coming back with you?” he asked.

“We had a bit of an argument about that the first time I brought it up. One step at a time,” I said.

“What? You mean there’s someone out there that doesn’t listen to every word you say? Oh, I gotta meet this girl.”

“You’re a dick.”

“It’s why you keep me around. So what do you want me doing while you run around and play Rambo?”

“Rambo?”

“Yes. Rambo. Sylvester Stallone?”

“I know who Rambo is, you asshole,” I said. “I’m not Rambo.”

“You’re acting like Rambo.”

“I’m not some loner running around in the jungle trying to blow off people’s heads with rocket launchers.”

“Did Rambo have rocket launchers?” James asked.

“Beside the point. What I want you doing is what you’ve been doing since I left. I don’t know when I’m going to be back into town, so if people start wondering tell them I’m on a research business trip.”

“Fine. But keep your laptop close. I won’t hesitate to email you if shit starts going south.”

“Trust me, I know you won’t.”

“And Robert?”

“Yep?”

“I don’t know all the details, and I’m not making you tell them to me. But tell them to Maynard. The last thing I need is someone finding your dead body in an alleyway in Chicago.”

“Aw, James. I didn’t know you cared.”

“I’m serious. You don’t have to tell me, especially since things have cooled down here. But tell Maynard. He’s not there for Miss Leone. He’s there for both of you.”

“Yep. Will do,” I said.

“Yeah, I know that tone of voice,” he said. “Don’t die on me. I can’t run this company without you.”

“Can’t handle the pressure?” I asked.

“No. I hate dealing with the media. Your attention-whoring ass loves that shit.”

“Talk to you later,” I said with a grin.

“Stay safe, Robert. I mean that.”

I hung up the phone and stared out over the dark expanse of Chicago. The only way to guarantee Joanna the life she deserved was to wipe Slate out of the picture. It made me sick to my stomach to think about. It meant I would have to touch a part of me I had buried and long since tried to forget about. But if I was going to battle Slate, then I was going to have to draw from the man he thought he knew.

The man I had been hell-bent on burying for the past seventeen years.

I was going to have to draw from Boulder in order to give Joanna the life she wanted.

The only problem was, I wasn’t sure if she would stay with me once I did.